


The Art of Living

by Tabithian



Series: Jaybird's Diner [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Red Hood and the Outlaws, Red Robin (Comics), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason never really thinks of it as having a love of cooking, the way he's heard other people claim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Living

**Author's Note:**

> This started when I discovered [this Tumblr](http://fuckingrecipes.tumblr.com/), and then [all of this happened](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/tagged/Manly-cooking). *hands*

Jason never really thinks of it as having a love of cooking, the way he's heard other people claim. It's just. 

He never really knows his father, and his mom's gone half the time anyway working double and sometimes triple shifts to keep things from falling apart for them. When he's too young to be left alone and not old enough for school their downstairs neighbor offers to keep an eye on him for his mom.

The guy, Robert, is all muscle and short-cropped hair and glares. The tattoo Jason sees peeking out from the edge of his sleeve is a remnant of his time in the Marines. ( _Semper fi_.)

He's gruff and something of a cranky old man, for all that he's not actually that old. Early fifties at best, gray sneaking into his hair at the temples. 

The thing is, everyone in their neighborhood knows he's a soft touch when it comes to kids. The way he sits on the stoop in front of his building to watch the neighborhood kids at play while their parents are inside making dinner. The way he brings home treats and sweets from the diner that might have been thrown away at the end of the day. 

The first time Robert brings Jason in, he seats Jason at the front counter with a coloring book missing more than a few pages and a battered pack of crayons. Most of the crayons are missing the paper skins and the rest are broken, hard-used and brought out for harried parents.

“These ought to keep you out of trouble, brat,” Robert says. He scowls when Jason makes a face at the glass of milk he puts in front of him. “Don't make that face, you're a shrimp, kid,” and heads back to work, grumbling to himself.

Robert's co-workers are all horrible gossips and busybodies, flocking around Jason with questions and saying things like, “Oh, he's such a darling,” and “I could just eat him up,” and “Too precious for this world.” 

Jason smiles back, feeling his cheeks heat up. He gives Robert desperate looks until he he gives in and chases them off with a spatula and a, “Leave the brat alone, you harpies!”

Like he wasn't asking Jason the same questions on the way to the diner, Jason's smaller hand engulfed in his calloused one. Telling Jason to look both ways before crossing the street, always look for a cop if he got lost, never talk to strangers. (Things his mom tells him again and again, doing what she can to keep him safe in all the small ways.)

Sometimes Robert's co-workers sneak Jason into the back to watch him cook. He's always chewing on a toothpick and growling about how shitty the burners on the stove are and doesn't anyone do their damn job around here but him?

When Jason gets older he helps out around the diner. Clearing tables and washing dishes to bring in a little cash that makes things easier on his mom, makes that pinched look on her face ease up. Robert brings him in the back when things are slow and teaches him how to cook a few things. Nothing complicated because it's a little greasy spoon diner, just the kinds of things that he can make at home with whatever they have on hand.

Robert grumbles and bitches when Jason messes something up in those early days, but he never raises his voice, never yells. Just scrapes out the pan or pot and sets it outside for the strays, bitching all the while because they just keep coming back. (Like Jason hasn't seem him out there on his smoke breaks with the strays all over him and what passes as a smile for him on his face.) 

“Do it again, brat,” Robert tells him. “Do it better.”

Robert teaches him the basics, and then teaches him how to improvise. 

No eggs for the pancakes Jason wants? Fine, use a little applesauce or a banana that's had the hell mashed out of it. No buttermilk for the pancakes or the biscuits Robert can't live without? Milk with a little vinegar or lemon juice, or hell, grab some plain yogurt from the fridge and call it good.

When Robert thinks Jason's got things down, he manages to bring him on part-time as a cook, but only if Jason keeps his grades up. Jason does, because Robert couches it as a challenge, like he doesn't think Jason will do it. 

He knows Jason will, and so does Jason.

When things are slow or Jason's mom's working late and neither of them are all that eager to head back to empty apartments, Robert will teach Jason how to cook things that aren't offered on the diner's menu. Things he picked up here and there from people he's met, jobs he worked before finding himself in a forgotten little corner of Gotham.

Risotto is one of the first things, and it's one of the easiest things to make. If you do it right. 

Robert gives him that damn smirk of his, all challenge like he doesn't think Jason can do it. That he doesn't have the patience to do it. 

Which is bullshit because Jason does, and Robert knows it, but. It works, and Robert's not the kind of guy to fix something if it's not broken.

It takes several tries before Jason gets it right, but when he does? It's a fucking fantastic feeling, almost as good as seeing the pride on Robert's face.

Somewhere down the road Robert decides he's too old for the day in and day out of working at the diner for someone else and quits. Gives Jason a look and asks if this is what Jason wants to do with his life, working shitty hours and dealing with cranky customers and crankier waitresses.

“Tell you what, kid,” Robert says, pointing at Jason with that toothpick of his. “There's a place at the edge of town up for lease. You in?”

Jason doesn't get it at first.

“The hell?”

“You. Me,” Robert says, like Jason's the kind of idiot that needs things spelled out. “Business partners.”

Jason's mom's been dead for a few years by that point, and Jason feels a little like he's drowning in memories of her in that damn apartment. Robert's not at the diner anymore, and Jason's struggling in school. Not really seeing the point of a college degree if there's no one to share it with.

“You just gotta do one thing first,” Robert says, because he's a bastard like that. “Graduate college.”

Jason just about loses it there, words caught in his throat he can't get out for the anger and hurt and loss, but it's Robert and he's always been good at dealing with Jason.

“Can you do it or not, brat?” 

Jason does.

He goes in for a business degree in restaurant management because he knows fuck-all about running a diner. And God knows Robert's not going to around forever with how hard he lives life.

Robert's there with him when they look the place over, making notes about what they'll need to do to get it back into working order. How much it's going to cost. Loan applications and signing the lease. Construction crews and electricians. Hiring the staff, and it's almost ridiculous how fast that goes. They steal a few of the old-hands from Robert’s diner and get new faces that have Robert grumbling even more usual. 

Advertising and promotion and Jason waking up to a commercial on the radio with the same fucking song Robert used to play at the old diner when Jason was a kid.

“Goddammit, Robert!” Jason yells, when he gets to the diner later that day. “The hell are you doing?”

Robert just smirks at him and points to the front of the diner and the sign with _Jaybird's Diner_ in bold letters.

“Tweet tweet tweet,” Robert says, and then laughs like the twisted old bastard he is.

“Asshole,” Jason mutters, staring up at the sign, a lump in his throat.

The way Robert had pitched the idea to him, he'd thought they were going to name it something else. Robert's Diner, maybe, or something to do with Robert's time in the Marines. (He seemed to love those days even if they brought him a hell of a lot of heartache and troubled sleep.)

“Shut the hell up and appreciate the moment, brat,” Robert says, ruffling Jason's hair even though Jason has at least five inches on him. 

Robert's right there with Jason through the first year. Stress and worry and the fear that Jaybird's wouldn't make it that long because the restaurant business is a damn nightmare. He's there through the second year too, and the third.

By the time they're in the middle of the diner's fourth year, Robert, the old bastard, goes and dies on him.

“Goddamn asshole,” Jason says, a few days after the funeral. 

The cemetery is empty, the sky a dark, angry gray with clouds rolling in and cold wind cutting through the gravestones.

Jason feels empty and angry and lost.

“ _Asshole_.”

The letter Robert had sent to him after he passed away clutched tightly in his hand, one last challenge from Robert to him. One last _show me what you've got, brat_. 

“I'll make you proud, you bastard,” he says, knowing he already has because Robert never let things like that get past him. He always made sure Jason knew, never wanted Jason to be in doubt about something so important

********

Things are quiet, subdued at Jaybird's for a while after that. Robert's death hits them all hard, and they look to him for direction, and Jason.

He sure as hell doesn't know what he's doing, but he knows he can't let them down. Knows he can't let Robert down.

A few months down the road a kid staggers into the diner during one hell of a thunderstorm. He's bruised up and bleeding and goes completely still when Jason comes out of the back to see what's got Steph riled up.

Business has been slow with the weather, so he's catching up on paperwork when he hears Steph running around. 

“The hell is going on out here?” he asks, and stops when he sees Steph glaring at him, the kid staring at him. 

“Oh my God,” Steph says, flapping her hands at him. “Get out of here, you're scaring him!”

“Hey,” the kid says, sounding mildly offended.

“It's my place,” Jason says, watching the kid from the corner of his eye. 

Steph rolls her eyes. “And?”

Jason sighs. “Don't let him bleed all over it,” he says, heading back to his office. “We've got an inspection in the morning.”

Steph snorts, turning back to the newest stray to wander into Jaybird's, talking to him softly as she gets him cleaned up.

When Jason comes back out a little while later he's not surprised to see the kid at the counter wrapped up in one of the coats from the lost and found. He's smiling tentatively at whatever Steph's telling him, nursing a cup of coffee and looking better than the last time Jason saw him.

The kid ducks his head when Jason looks his way, but Jason gets the feeling it's more shyness than whatever drove him to the diner.

“Hey, Boss,” Steph says, waving him over. “Remember how you were complaining we were a few hands short after Cheryl left?”

Jason glances at the kid, who's studying his coffee intently.

“Yeah, no,” Jason says. “If I remember correctly, and I do, you were the one complaining.”

Steph narrows her eyes but the smile stays firmly in place. 

“My point is, _Boss_ , that it would be great if we had some help.”

Thanks to Steph, Jason understands just why Robert loved to give him so much shit over the years. 

“Or you could spend more time working and less time complaining,” Jason says, matching Steph's smile with one of his own. “See how that works out.”

Steph glares at him.

“Fucking fine,” Jason says with a sigh. 

Looks at the kid who's staring at them.

“You have a name?” he asks, taking note of the kid's split lip and the beginning of what's sure to be an impressive black eye.

The kid looks to Steph for a moment, uncertain. 

“It's okay,” she says, leaning in. “His bark's way worse than his bite.”

“Shut it,” Jason says, even though it's pretty much true.

The kid huffs out a quiet laugh, wincing when it pulls at his split lip. “Cullen,” he says quietly.

Jason looks back at Steph and groans inwardly, already knowing she's decided to keep him.

“For fucks' sake,” Jason says.

Cullen looks confused and Steph starts laughing and Jason's not sure when he lost control like this.

As predicted Steph takes Cullen under her wing, insisting he walk her to and from work when she finds out he lives in the same direction she does. Cullen tries to beg off, of course he does, tries to get Jason to schedule them for different shifts but Steph is Steph.

That, and Jason feels better about the two of them looking out for one another, especially when he finds out why Cullen ended up at the diner in the first place.

The only real difference this time is that it's not raining out, no booming thunder, not bright flashes of lightning.

Just Cullen backed into an alley by a bunch of small minded shits.

Maybe Robert was more of an influence on him that even Jason thought because he does the smart thing. He memorizes faces before sending them packing with threats of calling the police. (The only reason he doesn't is the way Cullen looks at him and the fact that he knows there's not much they can do.)

“Dammit, Cullen,” Jason says, relieved to know he got there before the bastards could do much more than push him around a little. 

Cullen meets his eyes for a moment, defiant, before he ducks his head and mumbles a thank you.

“Dammit,” Jason says, pointing Cullen in the direction of Jaybird's.

He catches Cullen shooting him worried looks on the walk to the diner, worrying the strap of his bag and biting his lip. Nervous, scared.

Jason clenches his jaw, anger bright and sharp because of it. 

"Fuckers,” Jason growls, when they get to the diner. He almost snaps the key off in the lock and has to take a moment before he tries again.

“Um,” Cullen says, following him inside. He's not quite shrinking into himself, but. “Not that I'm not thankful, but why were you there?”

Jason wonders if this is what Robert felt dealing with him some days.

“Steph called in,” he says. 

Cullen blinks at him.

“I'm taking you to the gym later,” Jason says. 

“Uh?”

“You need to be able to defend yourself,” Jason says, remembering Robert's words to him years ago. “I'm going to make sure you can.”

He doesn't expect Cullen to be happy about it, but that's too damn bad. Gotham's a nasty town, and the little bastards who were harassing Cullen aren't even the worst by far.

“Get to work, Row,” Jason says, giving him a gentle shove. “We open in an hour.”

Cullen blinks, and then. The smile he gives Jason is small, hesitant, and breaks his damn heart.

“Work,” he growls.

When Steph comes back she insists on taking part of Cullen's self defense training, which is either a good idea or one of the worst in recorded history.

Jason takes them to the gym Roy runs. A small place that gets by on donations and is more of a safe haven for kids like Jason used to be than adults looking to get fit. 

Roy's daughter helps teach the younger kids with Kory, and Roy deals with the older kids. 

“Oh my God, my _spine_ ,” Cullen says, flat on his back on the mats. He has a dazed look on his face.

Steph does a little victory dance, like injuring her co-workers and friends is a good thing. “I win!”

“I like her,” Roy says, taking in the scene like Jason didn't just bring crazy people into his gym. 

“You can have her,” Jason mutters, hoping Steph doesn't hear him. “She bites, though.”

“Yeah,” Roy says, grinning at Jason. “I saw that.”

“No, seriously,” Cullen says, making a weak grab for Steph's ankle when she spins past, still dancing. “ _My spine_.”

“Walk it off,” Roy says, like the responsible adult he is. 

“Are you - That can't possibly be an actual thing,” Cullen says, staring at him. “No way.”

“You'd be surprised,” Roy says, giving Steph a high-five as she twirls past.

Jason drops his face into hands and wonders what his life might have been like if it weren't for these people.

********

There's an old bench in front of the diner, a weathered and faded color of indeterminate origin. The city left it there when the bus routes changed. Moving a few streets up due to budget cuts and compromise. There's still a old advertisement on it for Jaybird's, a bonus thrown in for them by the company Robert hired before they opened the place.

“Oh, hell,” Jason says one morning when he pulls up to the diner.

He's been running errands all morning and dealing with people who don't quite sneer at him in his leather jacket and jeans, of course they don't. They settle for condescending smiles and using small words because they're too refined, too _classy_ , to ever do something like that. 

The thing of it is that Robert didn't just teach Jason how to cook. He taught him to hold his head high even when faced with the shit people, the world, has to throw at him. Taught him the things that really matter. 

Jason gives them the smile Robert taught him. 

The one that keeps them happy, doesn't give them reason to yank the property Jaybird's Diner sits on out from under him as long as he pays the lease in full and on time. He makes nice because he's got a business to run and people depending on him. He does it because he has to, and goddamn does that piss him off sometimes.

And now there's what looks to be a homeless guy sleeping on the bench. (This being Gotham, though, there's every chance it's a dead body.)

When he chances a look at Jaybird's, he sees Steph and Cullen at the front windows. Steph's making exaggerated faces and gestures as she points to the bench and possible corpse.

Jason shakes his head and walks over to the bench, hoping to God or whoever else might be listening that it's not a dead body. 

For starters, it'd mean calling the cops. And while Jason doesn't have problems with them, he's happier without them around. That, and it'd be hell on business. (Most people don't like to eat just a few feet away from where someone died.)

“Hey,” Jason says, stopping just out of arm's reach. “Buddy, you alive over there?”

He feels like an idiot asking that, but. It's a valid question, really.

Corpse or homeless, Jason's pretty sure it's a guy. He's covered up with an old leather jacket that's been. Not exactly well cared for, but obviously something treasured.

There's a groan, and the guy moves. Turtling up under the jacket like Jason's being a dick waking him up like this.

“Seriously, buddy. If you're dead you're going to put a damper on business.”

And Jason blames Steph and Cullen for that because prior to hiring them on, he didn't use words like “damper”.

“No,” the guy says, rough and low because it's getting colder with fall well on its way and if he was out here all night - 

“How about yes?” Jason says. 

There's a long moment of silence broken by the birds nesting in the supports for the diner's sign and passing traffic. 

“...Coffee?” 

Jason sighs, because this is his life now, apparently. 

“If you can pay for it,” he says. 

“Sure,” the guy says, finally pulling the jacket down so Jason can see who he's talking to.

Young, maybe around Jason's age, give or take. The kind of good looking that probably means a trail of broken hearts behind him, unrequited crushes and loves.

“Really?” Jason says to himself, ignoring the questioning look that gets him. 

“Uh,” the guy says, understandably wary. “Sorry, what?”

“Get up,” Jason snaps, pointing towards Jaybird's. “The coffee's that way.”

“I'm Dean, by the way,” Dean says, hustling to keep up with Jason. 

“Jason,” Jason says, holding the door open for Dean.

He can see Steph and Cullen watching, and oh, isn't this going to be fun.

“I don't pay the two of you to stand around!” Jason snaps.

Steph snorts, pushing Cullen toward the the coffee pot. “Still a charmer, Boss!”

Dean grins at that, looking around.

Jaybird's isn't much, really. Just an old, tired diner making a go at a comeback. Booths with vinyl upholstery and stools at the counter. An old jukebox with an eclectic choice of songs. (Including Bobby Day's “Rockin' Robin” because of fucking _Robert_.)

“How's that coffee coming?” Jason asks, sitting at the counter. 

“Hold on, I'm hurrying as fast as I can!” Cullen shouts back, sounding irritated and that's just.

“This is your fault, you know,” Jason says, shooting Steph a look. “Kid never would have talked to me like that before he met you.”

And that's a blatant fucking lie because Jason's actually met Cullen's sister. 

“Right, Boss,” Steph says, rolling her eyes.

“Nice, uh, place you have here,” Dean says, covering his mouth to hide his smile.

“Shut it,” Jason says, but there's no heat to it.

Jaybird's Diner reminds him of the best parts of the old diner Robert worked at, the one where Jason spent a large chunk of his time growing up in.

Not so much the diner itself as the people in it, keeping it alive in all the important ways.

Jason watches Dean with Steph and Cullen, smiling wide as he tells them about the road trip he's on. Some kind of mission to rediscover America, or some bullshit. Visiting the places he's seen in old movies and read about in books. Taking jobs here and there when money runs low.

“So how the hell did you end up here?” Jason asks. Has to.

Dean gives him an easy smile and a shrug. “Ran out of gas.”

Jason only just stops from rolling his eyes. 

“No, really,” Dean says, and his expression goes sheepish. “I, ah. Might not be able to pay for the coffee.”

The coffee that Cullen's given him a few refills on as he told them about that damn road trip of his.

Jason sighs because of course not.

Steph clears her throat and points at the “Help Wanted” sign in the window, eyebrows raised.

Cullen's got his hopeful face on and Dean's giving him a smile that can only be described as assholish.

“Can you cook?” Jason asks.

“I'm not terrible,” Dean says, which isn't quite as reassuring as he probably thinks it is.

“Oh for God's sake, why the fuck not,” Jason says. It's not like he doesn't know how this is going to end anyway.

********

Dean turns out to be a better cook than Jason expected. 

He has a few ideas to liven up the diner's menu, shake things up a little.

“Yeah, but can you make risotto?” Jason asks.

“Motherfucker,” Dean growls. “Who told you?”

Cullen makes a sound alarmingly close to a squeak and disappears into the kitchen. Steph's out for the day, down with a cold and it's just the three of them.

The three of them and Cullen mentioning to Jason that Dean got fired from his last job because he fails at risotto.

“I mean seriously,” Dean says, throwing his hands up. “Who the hell orders risotto at a roadside diner? _Who?_ ”

“It's the easiest fucking thing in the world to make, Winchester,” Jason says, having way too much fun with this. “How the hell do you not know how to make it?”

Dean snarls at him and suddenly it's a challenge.

“Here,” Jason says, smirking. “I'll write the recipe down for you, see if you can do it.”

He makes sure to write it down using words Dean will understand. Meaning it's profanity laden and contains references to the mythical creatures Dean's collecting stories about on his road trip. Wendigos and vampires and demons. Dragons. Tears of despair. More profanity.

Dean tries and tries and tries but for some inexplicable reason he always, always fucks up the risotto.

“Goddamn, Winchester. I'm amazed.”

“Fuck off, I'm awesome at pie,” Dean shoots back, smug.

Jason has to hand that to him because Dean is a goddamn genius when it comes to pies. They've gotten just as many customers coming to Jaybird's for his pies than the burgers.

Still.

Jason takes to e-mailing him recipes written in the same way, and Dean retaliates in kind until they've rebuilt the menu from the ground up. Removing items that weren't selling as well as initially hoped for, and adding a few that might get them notice.

Not too long into that Dean's little brother and his fiancé come up from Palo Alto on spring break looking bemused.

“So, uh.” he says, looking between them. Steph and Cullen are flailing over Jess at a back corner booth. “I may have done something. Bad.”

Dean's eyes narrow. “And by 'bad' you mean?”

Sam turns his laptop around. One of the internet news sites are up, and - 

“Is that what I think it is?” Jason asks, pulling the laptop closer.

“Yeah?” Sam asks, like he's not sure.

Jason's risotto recipe, expletives in place, is looking back at him with what looks like a million comments. There's a little explanatory blurb by Sam, what it is, who wrote it, why he posted it.

“Why would you do that?” Jason asks, handing the laptop over to Dean.

Sam shrugs. “I thought people would get a kick out it?”

Obviously they _did_.

“Sammy - “

“They want more,” Sam says, as is Jason hadn't seen that in the handful of comments he actually read.

“ _Sam_.”

“Why the fuck not,” Jason says after a moment.

“What?”

Jason shrugs. “People need to learn to cook somehow, right?”

If this helps them, what the hell.

“Goddammit,” Dean mutters. “Fine, whatever.”

Sam brightens up, reclaiming his laptop from Dean. “Great, I'll get you set up before we head back!”

Dean sighs, and Jason? He knows the feeling far too well.

Dean insists on calling the damn thing _Manly Cooking_ because it's Dean, and. Well. It's Dean. (Steph insists they put a disclaimer on the damn thing, which they do because it's not so much manly cooking as it is completely insane.)

They start off using the recipes they sent back and forth before Sam posted the risotto recipe, and work backwards from there.

Jason's really not expecting it to get much notice, but news spreads like wildfire on the internet and everyone who saw the risotto recipe heads to the web site. And it keeps getting bigger and bigger.

“Dude,” Dean says one night. “There's this guy who is all over you on the comments.”

Jason sort of regrets letting Dean rent a room from him, even if the apartment was too big for just him. It's the one he moved into that first year after Jaybird's opened, closer to the diner and more convenient all around.

“Fuck off,” Jason says, almost a reflex now with Dean around and checks to see for himself.

There is someone who keeps commenting on the recipes they post, mostly Jason's though. Looking at his user name, Jason realizes he's seen it before. 

“I know this guy,” he says, and goes into the forums.

He finds the same user again in some of the more involved discussions he's had involving farmed fish and seafood versus wild caught. Being responsible about the food they eat. Organic versus not, and -

“Somebody's got a boyfriend,” Dean says in a singsong voice, breaking into laughter. “I think I'm jealous.”

“Shut it, Winchester,” Jason snaps, and because this is one of the nights Dean is giving risotto another try, “and keep an eye on your fucking risotto!”

********

The thing about Jason's life? It's full of assholes.

“So,” Steph says, leaning on the counter. “A little bird tells me you have a secret admirer.”

Jason's supposed to be going through bills, taking care of paperwork. Clearly it was a mistake to do so in the main part of the diner instead of his office.

“I can fire you,” he says, amazingly calmly.

“Right,” Steph says, laughing even as she presses a kiss against his cheek. “You'd be lost without me.”

Jason _looks_ at her.

“Totally lost without me,” Steph says, going over to help Cullen set up the coffee maker.

Cullen's more subtle with his mockery, but it's there all the same. Harper thinks it's hilarious and since she sees Jason as the big brother she never asked for, well. 

Roy makes fun of him while they're trying to punch the hell out of each other in the boxing ring, which is either crazy stupid or crazy smart. (Jason's never felt more motivated to knock Roy out.)

Dean is the real problem, though. 

For one thing, Jason lives with the asshole. For another - 

“Are you writing him back now?”

For another, he's got Sam on his side who can hack Jason's account no matter how many damn times he changes his log-in information or how good his passwords are.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Jason asks, reading the understandably confused reply from Drake03.

Dean, the fucker, laughs until he cries.

Jason grumbles at him while he tries to fix this mess. He likes the guy's ideas, okay? It's refreshing to have actual debates that don't revolve around a goddamn car or pie once in a while. 

Not that he's naming names or anything.

And, okay. Fucking _fine_. Maybe they don't always talk food. Maybe Jason's sent the guy e-mails that have nothing to do with _Manly Cooking_ or the diner. Maybe they've spent an hour or two instant messaging one another. (Maybe Jason's trying to figure out just how to ask if he wants to meet in person.)

None of that compares to the unbelievably terrible sitcom that's Dean's bizarre relationship with one of their neighbors. 

The one with the trench coat who never gets pop culture references. Or. Any reference, really. 

Castiel has come to check on them when they get in a shouting fight over recipes for the web site or anything else really, worried they might hurt one another. 

Jason's seen Dean staring after him once they assure him everything’s fine, usually muttering an embarrassingly bad pickup line. (Jason's torn on whether or not he really wants to know what Dean wants to borrow a cup of from him.)

It wouldn't be a bad thing, really, if it didn't give Castiel's brothers access to the diner when Jason's not there. 

“He switched out the sugar for salt at all the tables!” Jason yells at Dean after one such day.

Not a huge crime, all told. But they had had to comp a lot of tickets and probably lost a few first-time customers. The regulars had taken it all with good grace, which was lucky, really.

Castiel winces, glancing sidelong at Dean. 

“My brother is...fond of practical jokes,” he says, looking so much like a kicked puppy Jason can't maintain his anger in face of it.

“Just. Don't let it happen again,” he says, and goes to help Steph and Cullen put things to right.

********

Every year on the day he died, Jason goes to visit Robert's grave.

He brings a pack of Robert's favorite cigarettes and a six-pack of his favorite beer. 

Jason never knows what to say when he gets there. Most of the time he starts out by swearing at him, angry after all this time because the old bastard could have looked after himself better. From there he tells him about the shit the others have gotten into since the last time he was there, fond and exasperated. 

Worried.

Robert may not have been Jason's father, but he's learned a hell of a lot from him all the same. And as it turns out, picking up strays is something they have in common.

“I think Dean might actually do something about Cas this time,” he says, smirking. “Sam and Jess might have to take drastic measures otherwise.”

Robert doesn't answer, of course, but this. It's good for Jason.

“You'd like them,” he says, smiling a little. “They'd drive you crazy, but I really think you would have liked them.”

Steph, who's probably just as bad as he and Robert ever were when it comes to picking up strays. Cullen who is. Well, _Cullen_ , and you don't get Cullen without Harper. That fucker Dean and his goddamn pie fixation and those are just the people who he sees on a daily basis.

There's Roy and Lian and Kory, who aren't strays so much as. Hell he doesn't even know, really. Just that they always make sure to have coloring books and crayons on hand when they stop by. They all keep an eye on Lian for Roy when he or Kory can't be with her. One of the stools at the counter is even reserved just for her, which probably means something.

Jason fucking loves them, which could mean he's just as crazy as they are, or he's gone and made a family for himself without realizing.

“Fucking hell.”

********

“For the record?" Dean says, the moment Jason walks in the door, “I had nothing to do with this.”

Well if there was ever anything to be instantly worried about, it's that. 

“The hell did you do?” Jason asks, looking around.

Nothing seems to be wrong. Or really, nothing's on fire and he can't smell smoke. There's no screaming or yelling or swearing. More worrying, though, is the fact that both Steph and Cullen are nowhere to be seen.

“Winchester - “

Dean _smiles_ , and points over to one of the window booths. “It's for you,” he says, and fucking cackles before shoving Jason towards it.

“Fucker!” Jason says, stumbling a little because Dean is the kind of asshole who doesn't believe in pulling his strength when it comes to Jason.

He gets more cackling as Dean heads back into the kitchen.

“Fucker,” Jason mutters, looking back at the table.

There's a guy sitting there looking over the menu. Young, somewhere around Steph's age if he had to guess. Dark hair and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. 

“Uh, hey,” Jason says, taking the last few steps to the booth. “How are things going?”

The guy looks up and smiles, a little on the nervous side.

“Hi,” he says, adjusting his glasses when they slip down his nose. “I hope I'm not being too forward.”

Jason has no idea what he's talking about.

“I'm sorry?”

The guy laughs, definitely nervous. “I'm your internet buddy,” he says, because Winchester and his damn everything. “Drake03?” He makes a face at that, and then offers Jason a sheepish smile. “My name's Tim.”

Like hell Dean didn't have anything to do with this.

“Excuse me for a moment Tim,” Jason says. “I have to go kill someone.”

Tim blinks, bemused. “All right,” he says.

The fact that he doesn't look at all bothered by that means he's either been in Gotham too long, or he's just as amazing as he'd seemed when Jason talked to him online.

“You should know it wasn't him, by the way,” Tim says. “I know when he's pretending to be you.”

And there's a little grin, edging towards something like a smirk. Not that it's hard to know when Dean takes over his account because the fucker loves to post stupid shit.

“Yeah?” Jason asks.

Tim nods. “I've been meaning to come here for a while,” he says, looking down at his hands. “I just thought, you know. Why not?”

Likely for the same reasons Jason hadn't worked up the nerve to meet Tim. 

Jason and Dean's names are all over the website along with the diner's address. Tim's always known who Jason is.

Jason, though. 

He's pretty shit at this dating thing. There were a few people growing up, backseat fumbling and frantic kissing, but never anything that lasted. That ever meant enough for him to fight for.

Tim's still avoiding his eyes, playing with the menu. 

Jason sits down across from him and gently pulls the menu away. Waits until Tim looks up at him and smiles.

“Coffee?” he asks.

Tim smiles at him, soft and sweet and Jason already knew he was trouble. So damn smart and he always knew how to shut the idiots that showed up in the forums down fast. Adding that damn smile to the mix? 

“Sure,” Tim says. And then, “Fair trade?”

Jason laughs in surprise and leans his elbows on the table. “Are we really going to do this now?” he asks, but he already knows the answer.

Tim grins at him, something sparking in his eyes. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he says, clearly lying his ass off.

“Right," Jason says. "Like I believe that.”

Jason's pretty shitty at the dating thing, but this? This he can do.


End file.
